


wash of the river, heat of the sun

by snakepills



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood licking, Crying, Dacryphilia, Dubious Consent, M/M, Marking, Minotaur - Freeform, Minotaur Percival Graves, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Porn with hardly any plot, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Rimming, Size Difference, So many fucking metaphors, Violence, also percy's ironically pretty soft, and i really dunno what that's about, but don't do that in real life, distention, either literally or figuratively, greek mythology au but still with a touch of magic, i have this thing about making theseus small, in this nuthouse we fight before we fuck, like seriously way too much symbolism, lotta made up words, mild scar kink, monster fucking, this one goes out to the furries, unless it's consensual and you've worked it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakepills/pseuds/snakepills
Summary: Theseus travelled to Knossos to slay a hungry monster. He is instead devoured by a starving god.
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Theseus Scamander
Kudos: 20





	wash of the river, heat of the sun

**Author's Note:**

> okay, i cannot believe what is possibly my finest use of language is for a monster fucking fic

The tangle of halls opened into a vast room, so similar, yet very different from the cunningly-made Labyrinth; circular, with curved walls of stone, ceiling high and gently lit by a semicircle of twelve orange, glowing flames floating in hush.  
  
The Minotaur stood at its centre, as though in waiting — great and cloven hooved and fiery. His upper half was that of a man; dark-haired spare for the mirrored white streaks across the sides of his head. Ink-black horns dipped in ivory curved forward, an incomplete halo of bone. Scars and muscle roped across his body, not hidden even by his furred lower half of bull, midnight pelage short and smooth. The beast's tail flicked, slim like a whip until the fluffed end. Eyes of umber tracked his movements, in interest or enmity, Theseus could not cull from the impassive expression about the creature's face alone. But if Pasiphaë's labrys in hand was anything to go by, Theseus had a suspicion of the creature's intent.  
  
"I am Percival," the Minotaur said, voice low but clear in the empty chamber. He smiled then, teeth gleaming. Handsome would have crossed Theseus' mind, had he not been readied to slaughter the being. "You shall serve well as a sacrifice."  
  
The creature appeared bothered not by the lack of thirteen humans meant to accompany Theseus in offering.  
  
"I, Theseus of Athens, am not here in passive oblation," Theseus stated, fact as it was.  
  
The brute let out a huff of a laugh. "I should hope not."  
  
Theseus lunged toward him, his father's xiphos tight in his grip, scant allowing the other to finish his words. The Minotaur swung his twin-bitted cleave just as quickly, knocking the sword away, but not strong enough that Theseus dropped it. His other hand reached out, clawing scrapes across the soft skin of Theseus' neck. Rolling away, Theseus regained his footing, crouching low and steady.  
  
He took wary steps, circling the hulking form of lore. Swiped iron divided flesh, blood bathing silver in its liquid. The monster gripped his side with his left hand, smearing haima across his ribs, glistening in the firelight. His grin widened a fraction, an animal playing with his food, and rushed toward Theseus in fierce.  
  
Theseus felt the cut of heel's kiss, the edge of the labrys slicing his upper arm, his dodge only just allowing him safety. He nicked the terrible beast's thigh before sliding out of way of the fiend's second swing, its heavy head sinking into the stone floor. He left his axe embedded in the ground, though it should have been unburdensome to retrieve it.  
  
"You've bloodied me well enough, Theseus of Athens," the monster said, though no aggression was evident in his voice.  
  
Theseus thought to himself that he would fall for no such daft and blatant trickery.  
  
"Cretan, you think you can best me without a weapon?" he scoffed.  
  
"I shall do to you better than that," the Minotaur replied, wry.  
  
He charged at Theseus, horns knocking the warrior's sword clattering to the floor, stomping on hammer-hardened blade, and cracked the metal with heavy hoof. Theseus, bewildered, but ever watchful, readied himself for attack.  
  
"Give yourself to me," the monster uttered. Now he circled Theseus.  
  
"I am no mere tribute," Theseus snarled.  
  
"Did you not come to me of your own volition?" the creature mused, steadily retreating him into a wall.  
  
"Indeed," Theseus said, "to slay you."  
  
Theseus himself was not short of stature, standing well above most men, but as he stared up at the creature he came only to his chest. And so he threw a fist at the beast's gut.  
  
Percival grunted, "Strong, I'll give you that. You are worth your weapons."  
  
He gathered Theseus' hands within one of his own, blood-smeared fingers tarnishing pale wrists, and pinned them to the wall, stone scraping skin.  
  
"Unhand me," Theseus demanded, soft belly exposed and vulnerable.  
  
The Minotaur licked the cruor at his neck with purposeful tongue, tasting the life and iron.  
  
"You're prettier than all the others they've ever sent, little one," the monstrosity murmured against his skin. "Oh, what a gift, indeed."  
  
He petted Theseus' auburn hair as though he were not the animal — not the wilder locked away by reason of fear and jealousy.  
  
"The best meal I'd have in a lifetime."  
  
And eaten Theseus would be.  
  
Dragged to the far side of the den kicking, Theseus was forced on wool bedding and stripped of tunic; stilled by calloused hands and bonds of conjury. His arms tightly bound by invisible cuffs above his head, felt but not seen, their iron bite at his wrists.  
  
The creature began tracing his wet and warm tongue up Theseus' calf, up his thigh, up his hip and stomach and chest; catching on scar tissue and fresh wounds. Tasting sweat and skin and blood — 𝘢𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦-𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘶𝘭𝘦 before the main course.  
  
Now, with his face a breath's length away from the beast's, Theseus could see the gilded pupils surrounded by burnt russet — amber alight, scorching hot, searing into his soul. Firestone eyes.  
  
And just when Theseus thought he would take a bite out of him, Percival kissed him.  
  
Softly, softly, two seconds and a gentle nip before he pulled away leaving a dazed, wide-eyed, heavy-breathed man. All sweetness and tender, he could not have been more horrid.  
  
When Theseus found his voice again he said, "You cannot hope to fool me into placation."  
  
"That is not my hope at all," Percival replied. "I only wish to enjoy that which I have been deprived."  
  
The depth of his timbre, so achingly affectionate, dragged a shiver down Theseus' spine. Troubled river, quiet water, curled hair and curled hands. He thought, then, to kick Percival, only to find himself trapped under the other's weight. Fingertips traced his scarred ribs, lips flittering their way over his chest. As Percival trailed his his teeth over the freckle on his left pectoral, Theseus snarled.  
  
"Get off," he spat, twisting his body away. "Get o-"  
  
But his words were swallowed by a hiccupped breath when Percival wrapped a hand around his manhood and bit down on his nipple. Theseus locked his bottom lip between his teeth, harshly, without mercy, silencing himself as he yanked his arms on instinct only to be caught by his restraints.  
  
"No sharp words for me now?" Percival said, amusedly.  
  
Theseus turned his head away, unable to face the disgrace of his involuntary reaction as Percival's rough pads stroked sensitive skin.  
  
"Oh, darling," Percival whispered, "You gorgeous temptation. There's no need to hide."  
  
Percival pulled at his lip until it was released of his teeth, freeing his mouth to be kissed again. Hungrily then, he pressed to Theseus' full lips and licking until they were both breathless. His fingers tugged at the man's cock, half-hard and filling quickly, thumbing the head until Theseus squirmed under his touch.  
  
Flipped over, his arse pushed high into the air, Percival traced the line of his thighs, muscled with a dusting of fine hair. He nosed along his tailbone before licking a stripe between his cheeks, Theseus jerking forward. Percival laved his tongue against him, soaking him with spit, hands held fast to his hips which writhed so lovely. Fingers pulling at skin leaving reddened trails in their wake that would surely bruise.  
  
Soon, a hand left his waist to tug at his cock while another pressed into him. Theseus struggled against his bindings fervently, forcing himself to focus. The fingers stretching him into accommodation became chafing as the saliva dried. Moments before it could become painful, Percival muttered a spell and then he was slick with lube. Three thick fingers slid easily to his prostate, spreading him generously.  
  
His attempts to remain quiet quickly grew futile, panting and whining even as he pressed his face into the sheets. Chewed lips and broken skin paired with heavy arousal and shame — Theseus was a darling sight. Percival pressed incessantly until Theseus came apart with a choked moan, the flooding humiliation burning a blush from his ears down to his chest as he slumped, boneless and exhausted.  
  
Rolling his slackened body over, he released his magic and Theseus was no longer immobilized by cuffs of conjured metal, instead bound by Percival's starbright. Eyes smoky with the burning wood of forest trees, giving bursting life to pyrophytic seed.  
  
As Percival loomed above his naked body, Theseus felt, heavy on his thigh, the creature's cock — warm and dripping down his skin, sticky and thick. Percival nosed along his sweaty neckline, licking across the heated skin, then down to his cock, cleaning him of his cum, Theseus whimpered.  
  
Percival sat back on his haunches, pulled him into his lap, letting his pliant weight fall on his thighs, body sagged against his chest. Teeth grazed his scapula, then sunk into the meat of his shoulder as he pushed into him. Wide head parting him so thoroughly, fingers buried in red-tinged curls. Theseus was far from immune to the pleasure of his nerves being pressed against so entirely, completely, absolutely. No room for anything except the staggering, heady bliss — more intoxicating than finest of wine, leaving him dizzy and gasping.  
  
They were shuddering things, wrought with pleasure, clawing at each other for a sense of grounding. Despite being sodden with lube, the burn was present, but the pain brought him just as much pleasure. Theseus moaned loudly, cock already full again, when Percival bucked into him; fast-held hipbone and palm-pressed chest.  
  
"So tight, pretty thing," Percival growled into his neck, "Do you feel good?"  
  
But Theseus could not reply, had he even the desire, all the air pushed out of his lungs as Percival fucked into him. His skin sparked with heat at every point that he was touched, forceful pleasure fogging his already hazy mind. The fingers at his chest moved to pluck at his nipples, pinching harshly. Percival lapped at his no-longer-bleeding neck, biting fresh wounds into his skin. He arched, sensitivity guiding him into Percival's touches.  
  
The hand at his hip slid up, feeling where Theseus' stomach protruded obscenely. The realisation had Theseus whining, eyes rolling back, wrecked by the wretched.  
  
His cock bounced between his thighs with every thrust, achingly craving. By some act of mercy, Percival stroked his weeping dick, hand completely enclosing his painful erection. In a matter of seconds he was spilling over Percival's fingers with a sharp cry. He slid off the Minotaur's length with a weak whine, abused chest rubbing against the stained sheets.  
  
Percival gave him no reprieve; Theseus felt him being split apart again and scrambled to get away.  
  
"P-please," he begged, even as Percival slung a leg over his shoulder. "No more, n-no more."  
  
He turned and caught a look at him through watery eyes.  
  
Percival looked furious — not with the rage of a charging bull, but with the fierce light of the midday sun. To be trapped in this labyrinth was a crime — to attempt to contain a star.  
  
When he pushed past his used rim, Theseus sobbed, fingers clawing weakly at Percival's forearms.  
  
"You're alright," Percival hushed him, "I've got you."  
  
Theseus, in spite of himself, relaxed then. Letting himself be taken into the arms of this being. Percival pumped into him, fingers dug claimingly into his waist.  
  
Percival stared into eyes glittering with starlight reflected in shimmering waters; swollen with heavy rains and overwhelm, freshwater turned brackish, eddied into Percival's very being.  
  
They both felt it then — a sliver of death, a breath of Hell, a moment of Heaven.  
  
Theseus felt a great torrid heat wash over him, as though he stood just barely too near a fire, scorched from the inside like he'd swallowed scratched flintrock.  
  
And Percival, near drowned in warm river water, shuddered and gasped, clinging to the lifeline of Theseus' tremor-filled form for breath, watercourse rushing through his ears.  
  
Theseus lay spent and shaking, well-fucked body covered in seed and open-mouthed kisses; torn apart by the teeth and nails of a god — ruined to worship to any other.  
  
Slain, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> A few Greek mythology morsels for those who are hungry:  
> Theseus is the Athenian king, son of Aegeus. His sword and sandals were his father's, left for him under a large rock, in that if he were worthy he would be able to retrieve them.  
> The Minotaur is the son of Pasiphaë and a bull from Poseidon. A labrys is a double-edged axe and some thought the word labyrinth was in relation to labrys. But in Crete they were not weapons and only owned by goddesses and women, hence why I made it his mother's. And I enjoy the juxtaposition of their weapons being from their parents. In actuality, he likely would have been weaponless or used a club.  
> The Minotaur's real name is Asterion, meaning starry.  
> The Cretans depicted the sun as a bull and the Minotaur might have been seen as a sun god. Scamander is a river and river god. Hence, sun and river god depictions.
> 
> I really do a stupidly exorbitant amount of research for impractical reasons.


End file.
